In The Eyes of Orion
by ROBOTURBOT5000
Summary: Ernest Hemingway once said, "There is no hunting like the hunting of man."       But then, he had never met a krogan...
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer: I don't own any franchises, I make no money off of this, and there is only a passing resemblance to the official comic book/videogame canon.

He was a creature of habit. The days before this hunt were spent in front of his trophy wall, thoughtfully studying each skull, tooth and claw hung there. To the ignorant it would appear as crass navel-gazing, but each trophy contained a parable, a lesson in success hard-learned and oft-valuable. His three scaly fingers whispered lightly over the relic that had granted him the status of Master of the Hunt, a set of jaws longer than he was tall and studded at the tips with arm-sized tusks. The beast that gave them up was as large as a personal starcruiser, had taken two weeks to track and a day to kill, and yet- his arms lowered to his sides- it was such a disappointing kill. The young hunters now, they were obsessed with the largest of prey and would give an arm to take down an _urd'ahk_ of this size, but for the veteran such as himself the only real challenge of slaying these dumb beasts was dealing with the carcass. His gaze settled upon the chest-sized triangular skull of a _whl-kah_, all thin plates and empty eyesockets and he caressed it lovingly with the back of one talon. This was a proper trophy, a reminder of a hunt that pushed him to his mental and physical limits. The true hunter sought prey that would challenge him with more than its mass. Speed, defenses, viciousness… and intelligence, these were the qualities to be sought. He returned to his comfortable recliner in front of the trophy wall and raked his gaze over the hundreds of skulls as he activated the holographic data he had been perusing earlier.

The central belt of the second-nearest spiral galaxy was well-known to his people. Within it lay hundreds of naturally-inhabited worlds, and scores more that had been engineered by the sentient races dwelling there. Once, it had hosted countless hunts as his people pitted themselves against the greatest beasts and most dangerous sapients the galaxy had to offer. Once, it had been a place where a single system could fill out a capable hunter's trophy rack, or send six lesser ones to their doom. Now… he activated a map display of one of the galactic arms and was greeted by a flashing red warning. **OFF LIMITS BY ELDERS DECREE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH**. Death, he scoffed. The elders, in their overly-prudent fear, would not even grant violators a trial. Now, the sentients in this galaxy had discovered remnants of an older civilization and from these remnants, had been granted the power to conquer the stars. The Elders believed that they were no longer prey. Now, the beings of this galaxy were a threat.

The hunter shook his head slowly as he zoomed and reoriented the map. Powerful though they may have become, these lesser beings were shackled to the mysterious gravitational relays that dotted their systems. They did not possess true faster-than-light travel, and they could not bring their war fleets to bear on the homeworld, providing they were even able to discern its coordinates. His people were secure in their isolation, unseen with their technology. The hunt could go on, provided that someone could show the Elders the error in their thinking.

Which is precisely why he was plotting a navigational course to the forbidden galaxy.

He closed the star-map and brought up the Tome, the encyclopedia of all suitable quarry within the known universe. Rays of light danced over the contours of his face as he surfed through the entries, locating the desired one and placing it to one side of the window. On the other side, he opened his personal file, the sum total of all the information he had gathered about this particular individual. The hunter dared not risk the wrath of the Elders for any common prey; he knew he must bring back a figurehead, a sentient who was for all intents and purposes an Elder to their species. He stared reflectively at his display, remembering the stories passed down from generation to generation about the hunts in this galaxy.

The specimen was perfect. His kind hailed from the fourth world of a star in the far arm of this spiral galaxy. Among all the sentient races, they alone were not the apex predator in their homeworld's food chain. They alone knew what it meant to be prey, to wake and regard each dawn not as a promise, but as a challenge. Reptiloid, standing nearly as tall to their humped back as the hunter himself, with the strength to match him and a physiology to endure the harshest of punishment, this race had been held back from master-level prey only by their relative dunderheadedness and obtrusive tempers. Most lived as warriors for hire; their millennial lifespans cut short after only a hundred cycles from careless violence and useless mercenary actions. Their species had been genetically shackled by the other sentient races, a terrible waste in the hunter's eye that left them bitter and scattered and given to useless killing for material profit.

This one, this reptiloid biped, though, was different. He was a leader among his people, concerned with their well-being and frustrated with their lack of direction. A mercenary, he worked alone, never trusting or employing others, preferring to see all jobs to completion by himself. He was gifted with a natural ability to manipulate the gravitational-based energy of the mysterious forerunner civilization and proficient in all the primitive weapons of this galaxy's races. The number he had slewn with his own bare hands, sentient and beast alike, and his considerable wisdom gave him the respect normally due to an entire battalion of warriors. Yet, unlike so many, the wealth and power had not corrupted him one bit, and he remained wholly dedicated to the hunt as a way of self-betterment. Many of the hunter's own people could learn lessons from this prey. The hunter reached a hand up to the hologram, clawed finger tracing the contours of the red-armoured being as he quietly, ritually whispered its name in its native tongue.

"_Oohhhrrd-nahhht_…"

* * *

><p>"-Wrex, always a pleasant day when you drop in." Captain Fulgrim narrowed his eyes and glared down at the krogan mercenary at his desk. Wrex leaned further back in the chair and stubbed out the burning leafy wrap in his hand but made no attempt to remove his crossed feet from the captain's desk. A single dirt clod fell off the tip of one boot and landed on a datapad. Fulgrim's mandibles twitched.<p>

"Afternoon," the krogan replied in an unnervingly cordial voice. "You made good time getting here all the way from the Presidium. I thought I'd have time to finish this." He tossed the smouldering thing at one of the wasted disposal chutes; it missed and riccoched under the turian's chair. "Ever had a human _sig-arr_, Fulgrim? Not bad. Puts scales on your chest."

"You don't make social visits, Wrex, so don't pretend this is one. I'm assuming you have something _important_ to justify wasting my time." Fulgrim swept some dirt off his workspace and jabbed a talon into the krogan's booted feet.

"For all the rushing around you C-Sec types do, it never seems any cleaner or more peaceful here." Wrex chuckled and finally shifted his dirty boots to the floor. 'I need some information."

"And just why would I give you anything besides a ticket for public littering?"

"Because I hear you have more work for me."

Caught off-guard, the turian tried not to let his surprise show. For a krogan thug, Wrex was far too well-connected and briefed. He reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a datapad. "Four associates who supply sixty percent of the red sand dealers in Tayseri and Zakera wards. I can arrest every scumbag they hire to push their product here, but I can't touch them because they never visit the Citadel in person. I was hoping you could go to Sahera and… _talk_ with them."

Wrex studied the datapad with a bored expression, then handed it back to the captain. "How loudly would you like me to talk to them?"

"Very loudly." The turian lowered his voice in case anyone outside the office was listening. "Enough that they are no longer a problem for me. I'll have the credits washed and transferred to an account of your choosing within three standard days."

Sighing loudly, the krogan idly tossed the datapad into Fulgrim's lap. "Always small fry with you, Fulgrim. Boring, boring,_ boooring_." Two massive hands gripped the table as Wrex leaned forward into the turian's face. "You know Elarm Talid?"

Fulgrim folded his hands together. "The architect? He's had no trouble with C-Sec thus far. Are you planning on redecorating, Wrex?"

"I need the keycodes to his penthouse door."

"Absolutely **not**!," Fulgrim stated firmly.

The krogan was nonplussed. "I need to get some blueprints from him and he has an unpleasant habit of not answering his calls."

"Talid is a popular socialite! He donates a considerablae amount to our yearly fundraising gala!" Fulgrim raised his voice to a hoarsely-whispered shout. "Do you have any idea what the repercussions would be like if it was discovered that a C-Sec officer had aided a _known criminal _in a break-and-enter involving one of our major benefactors?"

Wrex cracked his knuckles, gave Fulgrim a disinterested look, and rose from his seat. He turned to the door and paused for effect. "Probably not as much as if they found out a C-Sec officer had been using a _known criminal_ to carry out extrajudicial killings for the past twelve years." The door hissed open and he shoved his way past a salarian officer waiting outside. "Three days," Wrex called back. "The credits and my codes, whole and complete. I'll let you know which account to put it in."

The turian's only response was a hissed exhalation. He glared at the retreating krogan backside with enough intensity to convince the salarian that now was not the best time to speak with his captain. Slowly, forcing each talon down for every keystroke, Fulgrim brought up the information request system on his terminal and started typing.

_Ward Six Security Asst: Routine Sweep Protocol. Request entry codes for apartment seven-six-zero…_

* * *

><p>A single belch filtered out electronically through the volus' breathing mask. He pushed himself back from the table, clawed manipulators rubbing at his belly contentedly. "I must say, Commander, that when I hired you to protect me, I expected the meals to be somewhat less… delicious." The tubby little alien nodded politely towards the turian at the opposite end of the table, clad in rich blue robes with white trim.<p>

"You're most welcome, Anis Nain. Guests of your caliber are few and far between, and the Blue Suns always strive to be the most civilized freelance military specialists in the galaxy." The turian extended one taloned hand towards the black-clad krogan beside the volus. "Tea, Ganthog?" The dumb reptile merely blinked.

The door chimed. A batarian in combat armor, followed by a human female in simple Kevlar fatigues strode in after it opened. "Ahh, perfect timing. Sergeant Kel'vahn, your nightly report, please."

Kel'vahn spoke with the same gravelly impatience as every batarian. "Security is green across the board, no trips, no alarms. I've put the extra men you asked on sweep duty, Commander Velorum, starting with the 1500-hour shift." Turning to the volus, he added, "Your room has been left untouched as you asked, sir."

"Excellent," Velorum replied, dabbing a napkin at one mandible. "Technician Jez, how are things looking on the _system _today?" If the volus caught the slight accent on 'system', he didn't seem to care.

The human woman fidgeted a bit with the hem of her tunic. "The, ah, systems are all fine, no faults. We've made some progress with the new uh, inspection techniques you asked for. I have my full report here on my omnitool for your approval, sir."

The turian rose from his seat gracefully and beckoned his two soldiers closer. Taking his cue to leave, Anis Nain bowed to all three and turned to waddle out the door, trailed by his ever-watchful krogan bodyguard. As soon as the door closed behind them, the Commanders demeanour took a sharp turn south.

"When you were in his room this time, Sergeant, I hope you remembered not to touch anything," he groused after sitting back down and serving himself another helping of food. "If he even begins to suspect-"

"He won't," the batarian interjected, drawing a glare from his commanding officer. "I reprogrammed the cleaning bots to bump the hell out of his stuff so he can't tell if anything was moved slightly. That was a one-time mistake."

"Once is all we can afford. And you"- one talon thrust out at the human- "had better have some updates for me about his software."

Jez let out the breath she'd been holding in. "Oh yes, sir, I have full access now. Full access. I can see every sub-file, every directory… the whole program is laid bare. It's very ingenious, really- it doesn't use system forcing like all the other ones I've seen, it actually tricks the gambling machine into thinking- I'm babbling, sorry. Here." She tapped at her omni-tool and a loading bar speedily emptied. "I've forwarded the complete scans to your personal terminal."

"How many copies have you made?" the turian asked between mouthfuls of a repulsive-looking dextro pasta.

"Err, well, sir I haven't yet cracked the anti-tampering part of the-"

A fist slammed down on the table hard enough to rattle the dishes. "You had BETTER crack that file within the next forty hours." The commander jabbed a finger at the woman. "You came highly recommended. I would've hired a salarian, but you can't trust those slimy frogs." Calming a bit, he continued. "They say electronic gambling in Nos Astra alone is worth sixty billion credits a year. Sixty billion for one city! People will do a lot to protect that kind of money. If the casinos, if the Eclipse find out that the sole copy of a program that could financially ruin them is here… well, I want to be ready for when they arrive. Stupid tubby bastard, asking only four million! He has no idea what he really stole. Go back to your posts and keep working at it. Dismissed." The turian returned to his meal, leaving the two to their duties. Once they were a safe distance down the hall, Jez turned to Kel'Vahn, chewing her bottom lip.

"How long do you think it'll take before someone realizes that Nain is in our care?"

The batarian shrugged. "Techie, I ain't getting paid enough to think that hard. All I know is, when you see ships landing outside, start running."

* * *

><p>"I understand your feelings, why you're acting this way." Seeing his puzzledmildly-annoyed expression, the turian continued, "I read your dossier. You prefer to work alone. You don't like being part of someone else's team. Well, we understand and frankly, we feel the same way."

Wrex shifted and scratched at his chin "You prefer working alone? Then why are you a sergeant? Kinda implies working with other people." He glanced at the crested alien polishing the optics on his rifle. Korac was big, for his species, with dark black stripes running longitudinally across his face. Wrex thought they made him look like a sissy.

"Well, uh, what I meant is…" The turian stuttered, perturbed by the little mental hook Wrex had thrown. Probably, he was as good a marksman as he appeared, but he was a spluttering, apologetic mess in conversation_. Ex-turian military_, the krogan thought. _No, ex-Citadel Security. Head's too full of public relations nonsense. No stomach for the hard kills. He'll die_.

The bulky merc turned to the salarian across from him, completely shutting out whatever the turian's response was. "Sevvalt, was it? Lemme see your neat little gun again.'

"You know our names, krogan, we've been on this ship for two days now." The salarian's nasal voice had an extra edge to it from his displeasure. He leaned forward from his seat and held out the stubby rifle. _Cocky little bastard, to be talking to me like that. Too cocky, too self assured. Puts too much faith in his little gun here. He'll die. _"Don't mess it up," the salarian added, then returned to inputting entry routes on his omni-tool map. Wrex marveled at the lightweight little gun covered in metal piping. _Nice little toy he's got here thought. Might take it._

"No eezo, huh? Still, seems like this thing packs a punch." Wrex spun the circular magazine in front of the gun's trigger, hearing it make a series of satisfying clicks. The salarian looked up and smiled a little bit, pleased to be able to talk about his tech.

"No eezo and no power source. Compressed gas and metal, basically undetectable by anyone not looking for it." Sevvalt blinked his large grey eyes and grinned. "I took it right through C-Sec screening once, on one of their double-down days. Nothing." He greedily took it back and set it at his feet as he checked over the spare gas canisters belted around his waist. "Nobody sees me coming.'

Wrex feigned boredom as he glanced around the shuttle's hold, trying to pinpoint the head of the snake. The whole operation started to smell as soon as he'd boarded the little craft. The client had wanted some tech recovered from an ex-employee being protected by Blue Suns, or some other boring inter-corporate drama like that. First, they'd wanted him to recover it and agreed to his full fee without contest, even after he'd padded it out a little. That quickly ballooned into him leading a team from the owner's personal loss-recovery department. Upon meeting up with the shuttle at the Spider Nebula fueling station, he learned that he was now just another team member under someone's command, and his fee had already been transferred to his account. Maybe small-time mercs worked like this, but in Wrex' league, nobody was paid until the job was done and nobody was put in second place when they could take first. They needed him for something, but he suspected that they weren't going to wait until the end of the mission to terminate his contract. Someone was going to try to punch his ticket if they survived, and it didn't' look like the pilot, the other salarian or the turian, which left…

"Eyes open you slugs!" The cockpit door hissed open and Captain Chara slouched through with all her usual contemptable, oily demeanour. _Asari, two centuries old, ex-Eclipse Sister._The slinky way she moved, rolling her shoulders around obstacles and the wiggle in her hips always set off alarms in the krogan's mind. "Orbit's achieved and we're punching down in about three minutes! Check your purses, ladies, because we hit the ground running." She fell into the seat between Wrex and Korac and savagely bit off a hunk of the smoke-cured fish-thing in her hand, offering the rest to the salarian and, when he refused, the turian.

"No_ thank you, _Captain." Korac turned away and grimaced. "Wrong protein type. Besides, I can't stand the look of that stuff… still has the bones in it, blech."

Laughter rumbled in the krogan's throat. "And that's coming from someone who eats _dextro_ foods," Wrex chuckled.

Chara slapped at her crotchplate rudely. "Bunch of slack-jawed _faranxes _around here!" she sneered. "This shit will make you a goddess-damned sexual thresher maw, like me."

_Delightful_, Wrex thought. With the way business was going, you'd need a really good reason to leave behind a command position in the Eclipse. The Sisters were big on loyalty and intolerant of members liquidating their own underlings for spurious reasons; perhaps she'd found that a little too hard to abide by. _Maybe she turned on the wrong person, got kicked out of Eclipse and slithered into the corporate world_. Chara spit out a hunk of gristle and bone; it arced over her knee and splatted on the krogan's boot. He scowled. _Or, maybe they just got tired of her eating habits.  
><em>  
>The cabin lights cut out suddenly, replaced with a flashing red beacon, prompting the rest of the merc team to reach up and pull down the safety restrains from above their seats. Wrex wouldn't fit into his, so he gripped the underside of his seat hard enough to dent the metal. "Basement floor, turian fashions, hot lead sales," Chara smirked, "and more reward credits than you can shake your tail at." The red blip became continuous illumination, a klaxon sounded, and the shuttle lurched downwards like they'd just flown over a black hole. The other three mercs were tossed up against their restraints like ragdolls. Only the krogan remained still, swaying back and forth at the end of his tensed arms.<p>

Wrex grinned. This was nothing. They should try the tomka taxi service back home sometime.

* * *

><p>Across the southern planitiae, in the shadow of Cythris Mons, a narrow cloud of dust snaked its way through the low mesas and arroyos of the parched planet. At the head of the dust cloud, the four-wheeled rover creating it bounced and lurched over rocks on the irregular trail unused in years. Tools and weapons crates rattled around in back, and the two occupants in the cabin fared little better. Both were batarians bedecked in Blue Suns combat gear, and one was at his wits end.<p>

"Govram, slow down, you maniac!" he cried. "You're going to flip this blasted thing!"

"Am not," the other snorted. "You're such a big baby, Karthak. You said you'd let me drive this time."

Karthak swore as his head riccoched off one of the roll cage beams. "Careful, numb-eyes! I said you could drive if you were careful. Slow down already, we're almost there." The rover crested a low hill and skidded down the other side, brakes screeching, as both mercs surveyed the basin before them. Wisps of smoke drifted up from the centre of a black-scorched circle nearly twice as big as their vehicle. A few fist-sized bits of metal debris were the only clues left behind.

"Hah. Who said it was just a scanner error? I believe that was… you." Govram folded his arms across his chestplate and grinned at his fellow recruit. "Boy, I'll bet the boss is going to be so upset that he sent us out here for nothing, right?"

His partner sighed, opening the voice communicator on the rover's dash. "Seven to base. Patrol seven to base, over. Seismic event confirmed. It looks like there was an explosion, maybe an old satellite power cell. Going to scan it and report back." He received the standard canned reply and shut off the communicator, pulling his assault rifle from the storage rack behind the seat and clipping it onto his back. 'I'm going to go do a half-assed scan. You sit here and try not to wreck anything. And don't fiddle with my seat controls. I'll know.' The batarian hopped off the passenger side step and into the baked clay dust.

Whatever had exploded had struck the ground with less force than normal, for re-entering debris. There was no deep crater beneath the scorched surface as Karthak had seen before. The blast marks looked strangely intense too, and even though the largest piece was smaller than his fist, there seemed to be too much debris lying around for a simple power cell. Karhtak held up a chunk of metallic material to his omni-tool to scan it, only to be greeted with a flashing red error message on the display.

"Figures," he groused. "Blasted thing works perfectly all the time except riiiight when I need it. Hey Govram, get your ass over here! I need your omni-tool! Govram?"

The rover was empty.

Karthak was preparing the mother of all chewings-out as he jogged back to the rover but froze up as he saw the blood spray over the dash and pool on the seat. His partner was nowhere to be seen. He raised his assault rifle and scanned the horizon all around, squinting with all four eyes as he peered into the shimmering heat waves. There was no sign of Govram anywhere in the distance, nor anything else but scorching air. Something was wrong, though. The air right in front of him seemed to be extra-wavy with heat…

Right as his radio crackled to life, he felt a sharp impact in his gut. Looking down, he saw two silvery blades jutting out directly below his ribcage, coated in blood. His blood. Crackles of electricity danced over a shimmering snake- no, an arm- attached to the blades. He tried weakly to get enough air through his larynx to say something but the darkness crept in from all corners of his vision, and he dropped to his knees and passed into the void, his life's end lamented by a strange clicking dirge.

_"Kkkl-kkkl-kkk-k-k-k."_


	2. Chapter 2

Apologies for the delays in publishing this chapter. It gave me more trouble than I expect!

* * *

><p>In the searing heat, the four figures traipsing along the valley floor took on otherworldly appearances. Hot air rising from the baked earth warped their contours, doubled their height one moment and halved it the next. To the observer, they appeared as spectral demons, but to the mercenaries caught out in the harsh sunrise, they felt more like the souls of the condemned.<p>

"Goddess, I haven't seen anything like this since the job on Therum. Krogan, are you certain this is the best way into the stronghold?" Chara was panting into her helmet mic as though she was auditioning for one of those asari-hanar… _entertainment _vids. She paused and rested the butt of her assault rifle on her hip.

"I'm certain that you'll regret all this stopping and jabbering when daybreak hits," Wrex grunted. The HUD on his helmet had a thermo-display, and it had been climbing steadily for the past half-hour. " Sevvalt, how's the time looking?"

The salarian merc reached up to touch the side of his bulbous helmet. "Primary sunrise in fifteen minutes. Map says the waste disposal chute is about a thousand feet ahead of us." Wrex couldn't quite tell, but it looked like the salarian was trying to adjust his helmet's shade level to see through the wavy haze that blanketed everything more than a few dozen feet ahead.

"Let's keep moving," the Captain barked, and the four set off again down the broken rock and heaved clay of the valley. It wasn't very large, only about thirty feet deep by a hundred wide, and it was fairly flat with few large rocks, but the baked clay surface crumbled beneath them frequently, leaving them ankle-deep in dust, and the oppressive heat overpowered chiller packs and seeped into their suits, addling their minds. Wrex found it unpleasant even given his Tuchanka upbringing, and the salarian and asari were staggering with every second step. The turian held up pretty well, the krogan thought, but then again those crested idiots would march into a furnace if given the order. Every so often, his rifle gave a little dip or his footfalls became a touch erratic, betraying that the heat was even getting to him.

Ahead, just past a near-ninety degree twist in the valley rose the imposing reinforced ceramocrete walls of the Blue Suns base. Massive, nondescript slabs that leaned inward several degrees and rose about a hundred feet off the surface of the planet, there was very little ornamentaion exposed to the searing heat. Down at the end of the valley stood a large triangular metal door, burnt and blackened from exposure- the opening for the trash discharge chute. Just as the four reached the chute, the solar illumination brightened tenfold and turned the surroundings from dull orange to bright white-yellow. All four turned to see a brilliant fireball rising from the eastern horizon to follow its dimmer brother through the sky. The HUD on Wrex' helmet announced a two-degree temperature change almost instantly.

"Primary sunrise," Chara panted. "Pop the door _now_, Sevvalt."

"It's not that simple, Captain. I can't just _nnnggg_" – the salarian grunted as he pried off the control box lid with a hefty knife- "cross some wires, unless you want the whole base to know that their garbage chute just opened up on its own." He pulled a thin cable from his omnitool and inserted it into the control board. Wrex glanced up at the imposing walls of the fortress that seemingly stretched to both horizons and back at the blazing orb just creeping above the horizon. He hoped salarian's skill was a match for his bragging.

His lack of faith was misplaced, for a few seconds later the door clanked and groaned upwards, a fetid blast of cooler air rushing out. Sevvalt's beaming grin was visible through the tint of his visor. "Someone up in the control room just got an alarm for a hydraulic lock failure. They might decide to close it manually, though, so lets hustle."

The sludgeway inside was a great deal more unpleasant than outside, although blissfully cooler and darker. It didn't get hot enough inside to bake all the facility's liquid waste into odorless dust as on the outside; every step was a greasy reminder of why air filters were mandatory for this assignment. The shaft sloped upwards for a fair distance, terminating in a ferrocrete piston that matched the tunnel's shape perfectly. Directly in front of it were the man-sized sludge chutes which ran up to the various waste-containment tanks. One was open and mercifully empty, marked MAINTENANCE in faded letters. Sevvalt climbed up first and, after verifying it was clear, Chara drove the rest up with all the compassion and manner of a slaver. Her near constant cursing made Wrex curious about her parentage, given most asari favoured dignity and tact.

_Batarian father_? he wondered_. No, vorcha. Definitely a vorcha._

Wrex squeezed through the hatch at the top and stretched his arms out, joints cracking. As he glanced around the hangar bay they had emerged into, he saw Sevvalt standing over a gravely-injured turian in Blue Suns armor. The turian lifted one claw and tried to raise his head to speak; the camo-clad merc coldly leveled the pneumatic gun at his head. Wrex barely heard the 'fffttt' of the shot, but he did hear the crack as the Blue Suns' skull impacted with the floor and saw the chips of brow plate scatter on the cold concrete. The salarian turned to the krogan and shrugged, expression hidden behind his helmet.

"Goddess, I can't stand two more seconds of this _korvakt _thing." Chara hammered at her helmet's chin with the palm of her hand, finally prying it off and tossing it on the floor. She gasped and wiped the sweat from her fringes and forehead. The others followed suit, tossing their helmets into a corner. Wrex pulled his own helmet free and clipped it to his waist, enjoying the cooler air inside the base. More importantly, now he could smell who was nearby. The entire place stank of batarians.

"Not bad for recycled air. Gonna have to get the brand of air handler they installed here for myself."

"You know, I have a brother on the Citadel who sells them," Korac said thoughtfully to the krogan. "I could give you his card when we get back-"

Chara stepped between them, leaning her modified rifle on one hip. Not content with just an M-63, she'd added an underslung flak grenade launcher below the barrel. "When you two females are done painting each others talons, how about heading up the Level Two ladder so we can get this show on the road?" She scowled and patted the oversized gun. "I'd like to leave some of these bullets behind today. Sevvalt, move up five meters and take point." She slung the Mattock back over one shoulder and followed a rapidly-disappearing salarian up the steel rungs.

Korac shrugged helplessly at Wrex and hefted his rifle over his shoulder. The big merc just frowned as he re-folded his shotgun and stepped into line. Outside, he was the very model of calm professionalism, but inside, Wrex was already wondering what sort of 'accident' the good Captain might suffer before the mission was done.

* * *

><p>"Shut up, shut up, this is golden!" The batarian telling the story waved his hand and raised his voice for effect. "So like I was saying, he wakes up and he has no idea where he is, and he feels like his hands are tied up with something-"<br>"And he doesn't see this right away? How many drinks _did _he have?"

"Shut up, I told you she's got her hands al over his face, and you know, he only has two eyes. Not like he needs eyes to understand what he's feeling, so he says something like 'oh baby, you are so goog-darn good, and she lifts her hands off-"

"It's gohd, humans say gohd." The second batarian was already stifling laughter, continually interrupting.

"- and BAM, helmet and all!"

The other batarian snorted, nearly spilling his drink. "HAH! Buddy was getting it from a space gypsy? And she had him all tied up? Please, oh hahahahah, please tell me he kicked her off-"

"No!" The first one chortled. "He doesn't know what to do, so he just sort of lies back and lets it happen, and well, she y'know… all over him when she's done. Whatever that stuff is." He draped one arm over the seat and turned to address the corporal who had been standing behind him for what seemed like hours. "Can I help you with something?"

The dark-skinned human saluted mildly, eyeing the two aliens. "Patrol 7 is still non-responsive. The GPS says they haven't moved in an hour and a half. Sergeant Kel'Vahn is putting on the general alert and he wants someone to send out some engineers with drones and make a sweep-"

Sighing, the batarian dropped his drink glass on the table. "Go back to Kel'Vahn," he snarled, "and get him to tell his boss that it's past primary sunrise and nobody is rushing outside for anything less than a full-scale assault. Its not Combat Engineering's job to pull his boys to safety when they forget how to read a map."

"S'not just that. Kel'Vahn says his boss thinks there might be a security breach."

"I'm tired of Velorum and his paranoia." The second batarian waved at the rows of monitors lining the observation room. "You can tell him a thousand times that all the sensors are reading fine and it's like teaching boxing to a hanar. I'm not going all the way up to the hub to report that absolutely shit-all is going on here."

"I'll tell him the drones are unavailable at the moment." The human sighed, sounding resigned. "If he doesn't accept that, I'll suggest he see you both personally." He turned away from the scowling aliens and paused at the door, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"So uh, what exactly is it that these quarians… secrete… when…"

"Go!" both batarians growled in unison, sending the human scurrying out the door. It hissed shut and smiles began to appear on their faces again, but only a few seconds later the door slid open again. The human corporal was standing awkwardly at the threshold with a strange expression on his face.

"You need directions, corporal, or should we-" The batarian fell silent as the human fell face-first onto the floor, a large three-pronged spear tip jutting out of his back. Both mercs were on their feet in a heartbeat, hands reaching for their weapons. One suddenly flew back against the monitor wall, crunching half a dozen screens into sparks and shards. A similar tip, this one attached to a spear, was punched clean through his face. The second drew his Carnifex and caught a glimpse of the attacker, almost completely obscured by optical camo, standing right in the doorway. He roared and brought the pistol up, putting several slugs into the huge being before it ducked and a razorwire bolas wrapped around his neck. Roars turned to screams as the bolas tightened somehow, slicing off his scrabbling fingertips and cutting into his throat. He pitched onto his knees, then his side as blood gushed from his ruined neck onto the floor.

The attacker rose to his feet, surveying the blood-drenched scene in the monitor room for several seconds before wrenching his spear free. The carcass it had pinned slumped onto the console, limbs falling over the buttons. As the door swished shut behind the retreating figure, one surviving screen turned bright crimson.

_Level two alert activated…_

* * *

><p>The blueprints Wrex provided didn't fully allow for one to appreciate the size of the Blue Suns' facility. Cross-shaped, it stretched nearly half a mile in its longest dimension by a quarter mile width. What parts were visible aboveground were hangars, maintenance bays and armories; below that was enough living room to garrison two battalions of mercs, and below that the machinery space and the nigh-impregnable holding cells where the Suns stored anything and everything they wanted to hold on to securely. Nearly an hour trodding through anciliary hallways, plumbing tunnels and cooling vents had only gotten the team close to the main octagonal shaft where the elevators and staircases were. They had encountered scant few guards and it was starting to grind on Wrex.<p>

"Are all your jobs as boring as this one?" he groused, stepping over the still-twitching merc slumped all over the floor. "If I'd have known it was going to be like this, I'd have brought a holobook instead of all these guns."

"Not my fault you krogan are so slow," Sevvalt retorted over the radio. They were currently in the large mech repair bay; the salarian was at the far side perched on a row of deactivated Ymirs.

"Cut this yahgshit out." Captain Chara swiped a Ymir head off one of the workbenches, inspected it disdainfully and tossed it over her shoulder. "I said zero chatter. Specialist, how many mechs do you count?"

Wrex ignored her and did a mental tally for himself. At least twelve Ymirs in two rows against one wall, a few drop-racks of Lokis and a couple of Fenris in a charging station, plus a half-dozen or so mechs of various makes in various stages of disassembly at the workstations and benches scattered about. The merc they'd shot had been tinkering with one right before that obnoxious little toad put one right into the back of his neck. _These clowns sure don't care much for getting intel_, the krogan mused. He caught the asari in the corner of his vision, reaching out to touch the faceplate of an armless heavy mech. "I wouldn't do that, Captain."

She scowled at him and deliberately pressed her fingers against the cold glass. "Once we have confirmation on the package, we'll alert a salvage team to this find," she said into the comms button. "Should be a nice fat bounty for every working mech we recover. For now, let's hide the body and get out of here before someone comes in and-"

Out of nowhere a klaxon started bleating. Chara yanked her hand back as if scalded. A canned voice came over the PA system, repeating something about a level two alarm. The asari kept cursing and denying she'd done anything as she backed up beside Wrex. Throughout the room, mechs began activating and slowly rising up from their slumber.

The krogan cracked his jaw and mashed his fists together. "Figures," he sighed. "The first action I get, and it's something that I can't really kill."

Eight Lokis disengaged from their drop cradles and rose to their feet at the other side of a row of crates. One went down the moment it straightened up, blown in two by a round from Korac's sniper rifle. The turian leaned out from behind cover again and knocked the head off a second mech instantly. Sevvalt fell off the mech he was sitting on when it came to life, scrambling away as it and three others ponderously turned to bring their guns to bear. Wrex leaped over the crates right into the teeth of the ambling Lokis. A single dog-like Fenris charged from his side; he threw a biotic field beneath its legs and chuckled as it slid into the remaining six mechs, knocking them over. He drew his shotgun one-handed and fired into the downed Fenris, its power cells overloading and blowing all seven bots to kingdom come. The krogan roared a challenge and barged headlong into the second wave.

* * *

><p>Korac climbed up behind the top crate in a tall stack, nearly level with the rooms upper catwalk. Surveying the battlefield for a target, he noticed Sevvalt pulling the latch pin out of a rack holding compressed gas tanks situated right above some bots. Curiosity piqued, he ducked down to watch. In the 'net vids, they always tumbled like children's play rocks and knocked the bad guys down. In real life, they just dropped straight down and pulverized the mechs. He winced, brought his scope up in another direction and drilled a sliver of tungsten through the brain of a human shotgunner hotfooting it onto the scene. A sudden rocking sensation directed his attention down to where a big burly batarian Sun had grabbed onto his crate stack and was trying to topple them. Korac drew his knife and flicked it downwards into the batarian's foot, pinning him to the steel floor. "Stick around, pal," he hissed and leaped down from the unstable pile just as it collapsed onto the helpless four-eyes. He dropped onto the floor on all fours as a scream and a satisfying 'squish' echoed from behind him.<p>

By this time, one of the Ymirs had advanced down into the maintenance area and began peppering the mercs' cover with its main gun. Chara scrambled for safety as the bench she was hiding behind turned into plastic and steel splinters, firing from the hip at the mech's torso. Distracted, it didn't notice the magnetic grabber of the shop crane descending and locking onto its left leg. The crane pulled up suddenly and the mech toppled face-down and then swung upside-down into the air. It pivoted to shoot at the crane operators booth; as the booth exploded in a spray of glass and aluminum, the crane lost power and dropped the mech. The Ymir's power cores exploded when its own head was driven through them and the whole multi-ton chassis fractured and flew in all directions. Chara looked up to see the salarian crawling from the ruined shack, throwing him a salute and a predatory grin. She turned to the door next to her just as it opened and shattered the skulls of both Blue Suns standing there with a flak grenade.

* * *

><p>Wrex was nearly finished beating two Lokis into scrap with the disarticulated body of a third when the door on his side of the room beeped and opened. Four panicked-looking Blue Suns turians dove for the cover of the edges as the krogan roared and reached for a weapon. An impact rocked his back and his shields dropped to zero instantly. Turning, he caught a flash of blue right before something smashed into the side of his face. Tingling, searing paralysis flooded his muscles and he dropped to one knee, tasting blood and his own charred flesh. He looked up at a robot, similar in shape to one of the Lokis but beefier and taller, raising its fists above its head to strike again. Each was almost the size of his skull and crackling with electricity. Wrex caught the first fist in his left hand, arcs flashing only inches from his eyes, then grabbed the second arm by the elbow as it came down. Enough adrenaline to rupture two human hearts was coursing through his body, blood rage pumping in his veins. With a bellow that nearly drowned out the gunfire, he ripped both arms from their metal sockets and crushed the robot's head between its own fists, then tossed the still-electrified limbs at one turian leaning out from cover. The Blue Sun yelped and collapsed as several hundred volts puppeteered his arms and legs. Wrex snorted and reached for the back of his belt, fingers clasping around the weapon holstered there as the others poked out from the doorframe and fired.<p>

* * *

><p>Chara vaulted elegantly over a milling machine and landed on top of the batarian engineer hiding behind it. She ground one heel into his neck and shot him point blank in the face a few more times than necessary. "Send your little robot dog after me now, you bastard!" she spat, tasting his blood on her lips. An already-damaged Ymir loped around a distant crate and she emptied the rest of her clip into its knees, the Mattock's thudding a downright erotic sound to her. It dropped down and raised one arm to shoot and she activated the grenade launcher and hammered a flak shell directly into the mech's faceplate. Its head turned ninety degrees, forcing it to swing its torso to lock onto her again. When it fired, its gun just happened to be pointing at two human mercs rushing up from the side to aid it. Chara laughed and wiped the blood and brains from her face just as Korac vaulted over the machine to land beside her.<p>

"They're coming from behind," he gasped. "Too strong… we should keep moving ahead… oh spirits!" He turned and fired off a shot at five figures ambling through the smoke and dust. The bullet found the chest of one, but these were not common troopers. Each was heavily armed and decked out in full Centurion combat equipment replete with ceramo-composite plating and multiphasic shields. The human woman stumbled, recovered and fired off a rocket at the pair's hiding spot. Just as Chara and Korac jumped, the milling machine disintegrated and the force of the blast knocked them flying. They sailed a good thirty feet and smacked into something large and vertical and covered in blood.

"Wuh-Wrex-uh?" the asari slurred, dizzied. The krogan towered above the two prostrate forms, armor holed, crest and arms mangled and pockmarked and holding an immense machine repeater and a five-foot ammo belt. He merely grunted in response, clipping the belt into the monstrous gun's side.

"You're… bleeding," Korac added as Wrex worked the charging handle.

"I ain't got time to bleed."

The advancing Centurions had already slammed a few rifle shots into him as he pulled the trigger. His gun barked to life with a loud thumping, spewing ammo rhythmically at the Blue Suns. The Moloch was an anachronism; although only fifty years old, it used the pre-shaped metal slugs of a much earlier period in firearms development. Formerly used by the human Alliance as a light anti-vehicle weapon, its custom-cut bullets ripped through the Centurion armor like foam packing. Wrex slowly waved the weapon from side to side, delighting in the ghoulish chorus of screams as turian, batarian and human were cut in two, decapitated, eviscerated and de-limbed by the shuddering beast in his grasp. The last of the belt ran through it and piled on the ground, smoking hot, and Wrex inhaled deeply the calming scents of scorched gun barrel, spilled blood and fried electrics as total silence settled over the room. The asari and turian staggered to their feet, inner ears still ringing, and looked all around the totality of the carnage. Eighteen troopers, five heavy mechs and several dozen Lokis, all reduced to their component parts and fluids in piles everywhere. The big krogan slung his weapon over one shoulder and gave them an overly-hearty pat on the back that made them stumble.

"Well, lets grab the frog and head over to the next batch, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Swept along by the throng of soldiers, Jez found it incredibly difficult to keep from being trampled. Kel'vahn's shoulder was planted in her back, forcing her along with his exaggerated stride, and right behind them came ten mercenaries in full combat gear. The commander was incensed at the security breach and taking no chances; he stomped up ahead in his well-polished blues, armor plates clicking with each footfall. In her own ballistic vest and <em>acoutrements<em>, she felt naked and vulnerable; the only person not wearing hard plate. She had no illusions about using the pistol holstered at her side should Anis Nain decided to resist them.

They found him in the main hallway, proceeding towards the hangar with his case on one side and his krogan bodyguard on the other. He stopped abruptly as the two groups met, edging behind one leg of the heavily-armed alien. Manipulators hugged the suitcase as he addressed the ensemble. "Commander, what is happening? It sounds to me like your much-touted security has failed you."

Velorum folded his arms behind his back neatly as his men spread out around him, eyeing the volus and krogan pair. "Eclipse teams are inside the base," he lied. "My men are trying to hold them back but their numbers are too great. They are moving further and further inside every minute. It's not safe for you to be outside your room like this."

"I thought, and you have just confirmed, that I would be safer off this rock," the volus retorted, a hint of anger in his voice.

"You think that you can just fly out of here in your little shuttle? The Eclipse will shoot you down before you can get ten feet off the ground. I'm afraid escape is out of the question at this point." The turian's voice took on an oily inflection. "Survival, however, is still on the table."

"What are you talking about, Velorum?" the volus hissed. His mask clicked and whooshed as his breathing rate increased.

Velorum smiled, but there was no cheer in his expression, only bared teeth. "Give me the program," he oozed, "and I will refund your credits and tell the Eclipse that you are no longer their concern. They are here for _it_, after all, not _you_." His statement was punctuated with a distant thud that rattled dust off the ceiling panels. "I wouldn't wait too long to decide, if I were you."

"It's a shakedown," the krogan growled, drawing his assault rifle. Jez flinched as the sound of weapons being cocked echoed through the hall. "They're trying to blackmail you."

"If I wanted to take your program, I'd have you both killed here and now, lizard. If you wish to rush into hundreds of Eclipse, I won't stop you. " The turian fixed his eyes on the round blue lenses of the volus' breathing mask. "I hope for your sake that your bodyguard is kind enough to shoot you when captured and spare you the tortures of the Eclipse. The Sisters, you know, have very peculiar things they like to do with those who rely on exosuits…"

Anais Nain lowered his voice in defeat. "I pay you regardless of the outcome," he wheezed at the krogan. Extending the case in one hand, he reluctantly hissed out an acceptance to the terms. Commander Velorum smiled coldly at him.

"I'm glad you saw reason, Nain. Sergeant Kel'vahn, be a dear and go slaughter those dumb wormheads. Tech Seargeant, take possession of the package."

Jez would've remained frozen there for several days had the batarian not elbowed her sharply in the back. She staggered forwards, each leg feeling wooden as she approached the volus. Ganthog was staring at her with his finger still wrapped around the rifle's trigger and a look of pure, unbridled disgust in his reptilian eyes. Jez swallowed as she locked her fingers around the briefcase's handle, imagining what a reflexive finger convulsion on that trigger would do to her at this range. _Human soup. I'd be human soup. _Just as she took the valuable package from Nain, the krogan grasped her suddenly by the wrist and her heart flew into her throat.

"This is a mistake, volus. How do we know this isn't a great big-'

Jez blinked at the warm, foul smelling liquid now dripping off her face. It took her a moment to focus her eyes from the haze of shock onto the gaping hole where the krogan's head had just been. As the big lizard dropped onto the floor with a loud crash, she brought up a finger and wiped some of the brains and guts off her cheek, still disbelieving. Panic erupted in the hall.

"Who fired that? Spirits damn you, who fired that shot?" The commander was livid, mandibles twitching. "I did not give any of you bucket-headed morons the autho-"

Another energy discharge leaped out from the shadows and slammed into his chest. He staggered, red steam and smoke wafting out of the huge crater burned neatly through his armor, and collapsed onto the floor. Jez could barely mange to throw herself on the ground as the rest of the Blue Suns brought up their weapons and began firing madly, shredding every pipe, cable and brick with a hail of projectiles. Nain was too slow in mimicking her; he caught several slugs in his chest and his dive became a death-roll. The human woman curled into a ball around the briefcase, squeezed her eyes shut and clamped both hands over her ears, trying to block out the cacophony of gunfire.

After a few seconds, the screaming started.

* * *

><p>Purring contentedly, the hunter strode over and retrieved his spear from the creature's chest, accidentally crushing it when he put one foot on top for greater leverage. He glanced around the room, bodies illuminated in the scan as fading points of heat. Ordinarily he eschewed use of the plasma-caster in favour of hand-to-hand combat, but there were too many distractions this time. Everything must be perfect for his first and final confrontation with the prey. A thought occurred to him; there was no moral problem with taking a trophy from a less-worthy animal if it was unique enough. He looked at the body beneath his feet, elongate and graceful with bony plates blended into hard flesh. Its head boasted an impressive crest and mandibles, something that wuld look very nice above a door perhaps, or fashioned into a chalice. Reaching down, he sliced along the back of the armor suit with his curved knife and pried it open like a carapace. The hunter slit the neck right to the bone, then made another slice along the spine and shoved his fingers roughly into the body. The skull and spinal column came free with a satisfying wet ripping sound, blue blood dripping down his hand and arm.<p>

A faint whispering sound caught his attention. His visor triangulated the source to a small body lying on the ground. This one was cooler than he had expected but not fading. Its heart and lungs still functioned properly, and he could see no obvious injuries. Why it remained curled into such a tight ball was a mystery. As he approached, its heartbeat increased in time with his footsteps. The hunter reached down and plucked the primitive weapon off its waist, tucking it into his own belt. If this truly was an _oom-ahn_, then the species was far less impressive than he had been led to believe. Feigning death… such a dishonourable defense for an evolved creature. He recalled some of the language its kind used, gleaned from listening in on prior conversations.

"_Com-ahnn."_ There was no response from the prostrated form. "_Mooh-ahv yor ah-sss_." He repeated them several times, but the phrases had no impact. Slinging the still-dripping spinal cord over his shoulder, the hunter reactivated his optical camouflage and disappeared back up into the darkened passages above the ceiling.

_Uuurhd-naht reacks_ would be here soon, and he needed time to prepare his traps.


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't like the scent of this," Wrex warned. He leaned up against a conveniently placed steam pipe, scratching the last of his facial wounds to heal. The pipe felt nice and warm through his armor, compared to the air-conditioned chill of the hallway.

"Stop complaining," the Captain hissed. Sevvalt was working away at the door blocking their path, omnitool beeping as code after code failed him. "How much longer is this going to take, Specialist?"

"Done. I'm done." He sighed and entered the bruteforce command on his 'tool. "They'll be getting an alarm over this one somewhere."

"Don't care," the Captain retorted. "We haven't seen anyone else alive. Maybe the Blue Suns finally ran out of morons.'

The door groaned open and the salarian cursed and stumbled backwards, lifting his feet to avoid a rivulet of multicoloured fluid that trickled into the door slide. It stretched down the hallway and Wrex didn't need a second glance to tell him what it was. The entire hallway reeked now as stale air tainted with death flooded around them.

"Oh spirits," the turian muttered, covering his mouth with a hand.

They advanced cautiously into the new section, weapons at the ready. A dozen feet down the hall, the blood trickle ended in a large puddle, with smeared drag marks leading further on. Following the drag marks another hundred feet further down brought them to a door set into one side of the hall marked "RECEIVING- HANGAR WEST- WASHROOMS". The mercenaries halted, glancing uncertainly between the blood streaks leading through the door and the hallway that continued on further to the barracks.

Wrex jabbed his shotgun at the door. "I'd wager that whatever's making that stench is down there.'

"I don't get paid to mop floors," Sevvalt sneered.

"You're not very curious, are you? I wonder how many of your past jobs you screwed up by rushing through them."

"Enough!" Chara swept her withering glare over both krogan and salarian. "Sevvalt, Korac, go see what's down that hallway. I don't like how empty this place has become all of a sudden." The salarian grumbled as he hefted his gun and hit the opening pad. Beyond the doorway, only dim emergency lights were on, and they could hear the crackle of live wires off in the dark. Wrex smirked and stared at the two forms slowly vanishing in the dim light.

"Kind of mouthy for such a little guy, eh?"

"You don't know the half of it," Chara groused. "I'd retire him in a heartbeat just for the amount of aggravation he causes me, but he's ex-STG Tech Division. I couldn't find a replacement with his skills in decryption and mechanics in all of the galaxy. Goddess knows I've tried."

_Interesting choice of words there_, the krogan mused. _Retire. Probably not the sort of retirement with a pension either._

Static buzzed in their ears. "Commander, there's, ah- oh spirits, its everywhere- there's something you should see for yourself. Oh I'm going to be si-" Korac's voice was chopped and double-flanged over the poor comms channel.

'Something' turned out to be a charnel house that caused even Wrex's eyes to widen. The turian and salarian stood in the centre of the hallway, legs splayed to avoid standing on one of the many, many bodies scattered around. Neither merc was paying too much attention to the bodies on the ground, however; their eyes were fixed on the two hanging by their feet from the ceiling pipes.

The level of brutality gave the krogan pause for thought. One of the bodies, a turian male just entering middle age, was headless. Neckless, too. Beteween the shoulders of his armour was nothing but a ragged, gaping hole. Korac spun the body around with the tip of his rifle and Wrex could see a huge chunk gouged out of the turian's torso right through his chestplate. It was completely cauterized, as though someone had pressed a burner charge against the chestplate and set it off. He was wearing the armour of a Suns Commander, and the amount of anger it would take to go through the hassle of wrenching a turian's head off suggested a krogan merc band, but that wouldn't explain the other body. Krogan, young adult, not headless but with a skull laid bare to the bone and ruined by a huge hole bored through it. Krogan mercs wouldn't care to hang up one of their own, and why did it look like something had meticulously de-fleshed the head? Some of the other corpses in the room had been moved, but none had received this level of debasement. The senior krogan walked slowly around the scene, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"In the goddess' name," breathed Chara, invoking a lesser-used and very serious asari curse. "What the sweet elcor-fuck went on in this hallway?" She stooped to roll a human's head to the side, grimacing at the deep purple discolouration around his shattered neck and the horrified look frozen in his dull eyes.

"Looks like there isn't a single hole in this krogan's body except the one in his head. What the hell kind of gun blows this kind of a neat hole through your head?" Sevalt thought for a second and smirked. "And, where can I get my hands on one?"

"No merc group colours on him," the Captain observed. "Probably the bodyguard. Maybe he shot some of these poor bastards, maybe not, but he definitely did not shoot all of them. Someone else was here, which means… goddess-damnit, what if they already have their hands on the data? What if the Eclipse-"

"They don't have the data, " Wrex stated firmly, breaking his silence. Sevvalt and Chara turned to stare at him, brows raised. "This has nothing to do with our assignment."

"Well, that's just a little coincidental. Do you have any idea how much this program is worth, krogan? Can your little mind comprehend how many mercs the Eclipse could send and still be in the black from recovering this?"

"Do _you_ have any idea how long it takes to bruteforce your way into a Level Six-hardened facility?" Wrex raised his voice. "No, of course not. If you did, you'd be planning this mission instead of slogging along in it. How did these Eclipse twerps get in during the solar day cycle? How did they hide their insertion, considering how many it would take to do this kind of damage? Did they find some sort of magical invisibility field to hide their ships as they approached the planet? And once they'd finished using the kind of bladed weapon that would cause these wounds, because these sure as shootin' ain't gunshots, why"- the krogan waved towards the bodies strung up- "would they do this? Just felt like a little turian head would be the perfect souvenir, did they? This is personal. Someone had a serious problem with him in particular."

Korac interrupted before the stunned salarian could invent a retort. "I've found him! I've found Nain!" He shifted the mangled corpse of a batarian off the volus. "Ahh spirits, he's dead. Someone got him a few times in the chest. He doesn't have the case, either."

Wrex ambled over to look at the scene. "Step backward a bit, turian." He looked over the space where the turian had been standing, a C-shaped void where no blood spatter lay. It wasn't big enough to hide a turian, probably not a batarian, but perhaps an asari… or human female. A single bootprint stood out in the pool of blood leaking from the dead volus. Beyond it, another boot print of blood on bare floor peeked out from between a dead turian's legs. The krogan's heightened vision could pick out prints, most partially obscured by bodies, heading off towards the same door they had come through. He pointed wordlessly at the prints, and the turian looked at him and nodded sagely.

"I bet there's at least one person left who might be able to locate it for us."

* * *

><p>Jez flinched. The voices were definitely getting louder in the hallway, and she could hear something being said about 'footprints'. An opaque window in the supply closet door would stop her from being seen by passerby, but if they managed to unlock it…. Frantically, she looked around for a better hiding place than behind the empty shelf. Maybe the beings outside were just looking for the case again. If she laid it out for them, maybe they wouldn't bother checking over the room too carefully. She slid it across the floor as though it was on fire and grabbed an empty plastene crate nearby. Folding herself up into a ball, she lowered the crate over her prone form just as the voices reached the other side of the door.<p>

There were several moments of silence as hacking was attempted, then an exasperated shout and a shotgun blast resonated through the room. Jez clamped both hands over her mouth to keep from squealing at the noise. The door beeped and shuddered halfway open, and four separate footsteps entered the room. Two were medium-weight, one was thunderous, and the other lightly pitter-pattered around. Pitter-Patter went to the crate and picked it up, making a relieved expression.

"It's here, thank the Goddess." Medium Two was a woman, judging by the silky voice. "Check it out and make sure we aren't missing anything.

"It's all here, Captain," Pitter Patter responded. He had the nasally voice of those thin aliens- salarians, Jez recalled.

"Fantastic. Now we can get off this rock," Heavy Dude rumbled. "Just have to take care of one other little item of business."

Jez had barely let out the tiniest of sighs when the crate was rudely kicked off of her. She yelped as two meaty hands fastened around her neck and behind and turned her world into a blur. When her vision adjusted, the beady red eyes of a very-large, very serious-looking krogan were right in her face. "Bad hiding spot, human. Who are you?"

"At-tut-tuhh, ah, tech sarge!" Jez stammered. "Tech sergeant! Please just take it and go! Just leave me alone."

"I agree. Let's take off… maybe we should ice the human first, though." The salarian closed up the crate and hefted an odd looking gun. "No loose ends." Jez saw a flash of blue skin out of the corner of her vision. She twisted in the krogan's grasp to see an asari woman in black and green armour (she wondered if 'asari woman' was redundant) giving her a dirty look.

"No," the asari said dryly. "Someone is fucking with us and I want to know who. Human, why are you covered in other people's blood?"

Blinking, Jez looked from the asari, over to the krogan's big hands around her collarbones, up to his face. They did look different than what she'd seen. "I uh, I was there. When they all died. I was on the floor trying not to."

"What happened?"

Jez inhaled deeply. "We were trying to shake down Nain for the program. There was some sort of security breach. He was handing over the case when all of a sudden the krogan's head just… exploded, all over my face, and then the commander exploded, and then I hit the ground and I didn't see much after that."

The krogan released his grip on her and she wobbled under the sudden onslaught of gravity. "Then tell us what you heard and felt," he rumbled.

"Shooting. Lots of shooting. Then screaming. Then, everything got quiet and uh, something… something talked to me. And it came over and took my gun and I guess it left after that.'

"What did he look like?" A turian she hadn't even noticed leaned out from behind the krogan to scrutinize her.

"His hand was really big and beige and scaly. And he was uh… invisible the rest of the time."

All four mercs looked at her with varying degrees of incredulity. "She's cracked. Let's just drop her here and be done with it. " The salarian pointed his gun at her forehead, but the asari knocked it aside.

"No. She knows about the program. We take her with us and ask the owner what he wants done. Find something to wrap her hands with."

Jez groaned.


	4. Chapter 4

"Typical."

The salarian grunted and shifted his satchel to the other shoulder; not an easy feat when clinging to a slippery ladder that seemed to tilt back a few degrees from vertical. _As usual_, _I'm the only one who can think ahead_, he fumed to himself. _I'm the only one who can figure out that broadcasting a signal through fifteen feet of reinforced concrete requires more than a dinky little personal radio. I'm the only one who can operate the central comms station._ He shoved the grating blocking the top of the ladder and climbed out of the access shaft into the main array's base. _And of course, I'm the only one that bothers to check if the thing is actually working before powering it up. _

It wasn't working, and now he could smell why. The chamber floor was covered with big puddles of acrid-smelling pinkish water, obviously the product of a coolant leak. He shielded his eyes from the ever-present drips and looked up along the retracted antenna to the top of the shaft. Bright halogen floodlights illuminated a menacing pillar of dull black metal that rose at least eighty feet up into mist. Somewhere up there, a coolant pipe had burst, and he was going to have to find a way to patch it if they ever wanted a ride off this hellacious furnace of a planet. The daytime temperature was now up to lead-melting extremes and nothing metal would survive for long out there. He reached up to his ear and keyed his mic.

"Captain, there's a refrigerant leak up here. The electronics will turn to slush if we try to extend the antenna and make a transmission."

"Then fix it," came Chara's exasperated voice. The salarian hissed in disgust and closed the channel, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't lead to a fight.

"Once I get that fucking payoff, I'm going far away from her and the rest of this sub-zero IQ circus," he muttered to himself,

There was another ladder set into the wall, with service platforms around the antenna at several levels. Sevvalt wrapped his fingers around its ferrocrete rungs and was about to start another climb when a particularly large droplet splashed all over his face. He cursed and staggered back, wiping the liquid from his eyes. He hefted his gun in one hand and squinted into the haze, trying to pinpoint what triggered it.

One of the metal platforms creaked and sprung suddenly as though a heavy weight had been catapulted off it.

Slowly, the gun's stock came up to the salarian's shoulder. He swept the barrel from one platform to the next as he slowly thumbed the safety off. "Where are you, fucker?" he murmered. Just one twitch, one breath of movement above and he'd have the bastard dead to rights.

Something landed in the puddles behind him, sending spray all over the back of his legs. He whipped around with lightning speed, finger already depressing the trigger.

Not fast enough.

* * *

><p>"He's been up there long enough, do you think he fixed the antenna?"<p>

Korac shifted around on the crate he sat upon, gesturing towards the access hatch in the ceiling with one hand. "He could… .he could be in trouble, maybe."

"Oh no, what a terrible concept," Wrex deadpanned. He was carving designs into the steel of the control room door with one hand, idly tracing out krogan runes and little happy faces.

Looking up from the files she was reading, Chara glanced at the dark opening, then back to the holoscreen. "He's taken his damn comms bud out again. Give him five minutes and hit the power switch; that'll get his attention." She scrolled down through the base's transmission logs. Nothing had been sent since the antenna was retracted for the planetary day cycle, She grabbed the human girl and dragged her in front of the screen, pointing accusingly. "You haven't sent any messages to Regional Command about having the package and you haven't received any messages from prospective buyers. Why?"

"No-nobody knows about it yet," the woman stammered. "Velorum didn't want to share the money with anyone else. He had plainclothes pick up the volus when he was supposedly on vacation and issue the old 'batarian kidnapping' scam."

"What a fantastic idea that turned out to be," Chara waved a hand over her body. "considering we're speaking face-to-face. You idiots consider yourself lucky if we can return this to the owner before the Eclipse start an intergalactic gang war to get it for themselves."

"Is that really likely?" Korac inquired. "I thought the Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack all had their territories worked out years ago."

Chara turned and held up the case that had been sitting innocently by her legs. "This thing threatens nearly a quarter of their revenue. Every gambling machine will become a free money fountain if this program hits the extranet. They absolutely WILL go to war over this. Hell, someone else already has."

From across the room, Wrex's raised voice boomed out, "I told ya, I don't think that our boy here is interested in the case at all. He's probably settled his score and on his way home now to kick back and-"

A loud thump reverberated from the ceiling. Korac was on his feet in a heartbeat, snatching up his rifle. Chara turned to face the open hole, pushing the human behind her as Wrex slowly advanced on the centre of the room. Muffled sounds, wet and repetitive, issued from the darkness beyond the hexagonal hatch. It sounded like someone was sitting next to the upper hatch some ten feet above, shuffling a bag of steaks around. The Turian slowly brought his rifle up until the muzzle was sticking into the hatchway.

"I think we should ask Sevvalt what he's doing up there," he hissed. Wrex pulled a grenade from his belt and stuck one thick finger through the safety pin.

"If I don't like the answer, I'm giving him an earful of my own."

"All right, count of three. One… two…"

A black shape hurtled through the open door and struck the tip of Korac's rifle hard enough to pull him over. The turian yelled and Wrex staggered backwards, gaping at the slick mass of goo and shapes underneath the turian. Chara flinched and lifted her arm up to shield her face. She saw a grenade fly up through the opening and closed her eyes against the blast. After the splat and earthshaking boom came dead silence.

"Oh spirits, what is… what is all this?"

Chara peeked through her fingers at the thing sprawled out on the floor as Korac picked himself up off of it. It was dark brownish black with deep greenish fluid smeared over it and she could make four limbs with elongated fingers and a long, slender-

"Goddess help us."

Now she could see the corpse tangled up in itself on the floor in front of her. There was no mistaking who it was. Chara wrapped a hand around her own throat to keep her food down; the human woman turned around and let herself go all over one of the consoles. Her heaving sounds did nothing to ease the asari's discomfort.

"Where is his skin? Who does this kind of thing?" Korac was moaning as he viciously pulled back the cocking lever on his Widow. He glanced at Sevvalt's body and dry heaved.

"Looks like I was wrong," Wrex rumbled, eyes widened. "He sure did a number on your friend there." The krogan's unflappable composure had just been flapped. Wrex looked up at the ceiling and racked the slide on his shotgun. "I think the blast got him."

As if in response, the salarian's bloodied helmet dropped through the opening and clattered onto the floor.

Korac roared and fired through the tiles, the armor-piercing steel splinters shredding them like paper. He loosed off three rounds before Wrex and Chara joined in, a hail of shotgun pellets and rifle shots tearing up the ceiling around the hatch, sending plexene-chip snow and sparks everywhere. All three magazines were empty barely three seconds later, complete stillness settling over the room as flakes of tile and metal drifted down over them. The entire reinforced steel hatch frame and door ripped through the damaged celing and crashed down onto the body below, then all was quiet again.

"Not dead," Korac muttered, fishing around in one of his hip pouches for a new thermal clip. "We're not that lucky."

Wrex was about to say something when a bellow sounded from above them. Four rage-blinded krogan could not hope to match it in intensity and malice. As it trailed off and died out, the three remaining mercenaries looked from one to the other with uncertainty and shock written on their faces. It was the quiet, devastated voice of the human, Jez, which finally drew all their attention.

"There's an orbital shuttle in the Number Three docking bay. I think we should go check it out. _Immediately_."


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Hell, it's too much to be a delay; more like a rebirth. School and other projects and life popped up. Hopefuly the last bit of this story will be updated as quickly as the first! **

**Thank you, dear readers for all you patience and understanding.**

* * *

><p>Strangely angular, windless and damp, the alien catacombs continued to challenge the hunter's intuition and skill. He would've preferred a more familiar jungle terrain or perhaps the long grasslands on a twilight planet over this artificial maze of conduits and passages. These… civilizations had an inexplicable desire to live on worlds that clearly did not want them. As he stalked down the corridors, cloak sizzling slightly in the humid air, he wondered what sort of beings could stand spending their entire lives between rickety, inferior spacecraft and claustrophobic warrens filled with tiny un-suns. Perhaps that explained their fatalistic tendencies and warring; the lives they lived were set in one long series of tombs.<p>

An alert popped up in the corner of his helmet's display; the hunter paused in his stride. Audio sensors were picking up a faint, rhythmic huffing noise coming from behind a nearby wall. He sought out the nearest doorway but it refused him entrance, lock hologram glowing red. Annoyed, he tapped a few buttons on his gauntlet, sending a pulse of concentrated EMF into the door motors. The action shut down his cloaking field and caused the door to groan halfway open, then freeze. His thick arms soon wrenched the two halves wide and he stepped into the darkened room, spear extending in his grip with a smooth steely noise.

The room was empty. Completely and totally empty, bereft of anything except the cluster of tubes on the wall and the leaky device releasing puffs of vapor at regular intervals. How disgraceful, to be led astray by his own equipment! Growling, the hunter rammed his sphere into the device, frustrated, filling the room with a hot mist. He tramped back into the hallway, scanning up and down and failing yet again to penetrate the labyrinth. This would not work. He could not follow after his prey if he was forced into the same maze as it was. The two could be circling each other for an eternity and never meet. He would have to anticipate the _oord-naht's_ next move, meet him at his destination. Why the _oord-naht_had been summoned here, he couldn't say, only that he was now leaving with his followers and a captive. There was nothing outside but blistering heat, so the party would be leaving the planet entirely. That meant securing an escape capsule… or a starship.

Without another thought, the hunter took off at a run. He knew exactly where to meet the _oord-naht_, and this time, his quarry would not escape.

* * *

><p>"You're positive that this shuttle has enough fuel to get us into orbit?"<p>

"For the last time, yes." The human sounded as exasperated as was safely possible, given that she was bound by the wrist to an armed turian in the company of two other mercs. She could feel all three sets of eyes boring into her back as she keyed her passcode into the door. Wrex reached out and grabbed her wrist as she finished.

"Wait a moment. Are there any other entrances to this place? Any way that someone could've gotten inside before us?"

"You don't seriously think…" The turian's voice weakened as he considered it. "You think that he's inside already."

"I think that's exactly where I'd be, if I was him."

"Well, there's air vents, but they're not even human-sized," she replied. "I mean, unless he went outside somehow and came in through the surface tunnel-"

"Good enough for me," Chara interrupted, punching the button.

Everything had been left exactly as it was when the emergency klaxon went off. They took cover just beyond the doorway behind a hover-sled loaded with crates, poking their heads out to survey the hangar. The shuttle sat on the far side, perhaps two hundred feet away, with a docking clamp secured to its nose. High overhead, the thick blast doors of the hangar loomed behind a thin veil of haze. Everything was still and quiet save for the rhythmic pulsing of unseen machinery. The human closed and locked the doors behind them, saying they would be proof against anything less than a microfusion charge

"How do we get out of here?" the krogan rumbled, gazing from the shuttle to the tightly sealed concrete overhead. Their escape route was beginning to feel like a dead end.

"Umm… I think that the upper shields can be opened remotely, since the base is in 'emergency' mode. We can use the shuttle's VI for that."

"You _think_? What if you're wrong, little one?"

Shrinking back from the asari's snarl, the human replied, "I uh… umm… could unlock them from the control room." She pointed one finger weakly at the windowed balcony hanging above their heads.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe 'accidentally' trigger some sort of automated defense system while you're at it?"

"I- I wouldn't-"

"Someone needs to go with her. Korac, uncuff her and hand her to the krogan."

"Why doesn't the turian go with her?" Wrex asked warily. He clenched and unclenched his fingers several times.

"Because his hands are full with the _case_," the asari retorted. Wrex could hear the slight shifting of armor plates, indicating the briefcase was sliding over the turian's hip. Sliding down and back, where his pistol was holstered.

"So, I take it that you and the turian will prep the shuttle while I take the human far enough away to miss it as you leave?" Wrex could see the twich in the captain's left eye, hear the turian shifting position slightly, but is blood-red gaze never left the asari commando's face and the slight beads of sweat forming on it. "You know the biggest difference between you and me? I'm not quite as stupid as I look."

As soon as the case impacted with the hangar floor, Wrex turned and lunged for the turian's throat. His beefy arm wrapped around the smaller being's neck as both of their hands closed around Korac's pistol. Easily, he forced the turian's finger around it as he brought the hapless merc in front of him as a living shield. The human tripped and fell, her weight immobilizing Korac's left arm as Wrex brought the pistol up to the asari's forehead. Her own rifle had barely risen above crotch level.

Everyone froze, returning the hangar to its state of supernatural stillness.

"New plan," Wrex growled, flexing his arm and hearing the turian's neck crackle. "I kill you both, give the case back to the human and go take every miserable credit you owe me from your boss' stinking hide. I'll give you five seconds to come up with a counter offer."

"You think I can't drop you before you drop him, bastard?"

"Four."

"Overgrown lizard garbage! I'll make a pair of boots out of your ass!" The captain's face was a fetching shade of purple as she foamed and spit in rage.

"One."

Chara heaved the rifle upward, but it wasn't to take a shot. She slung it back over her shoulder and Wrex eased his finger off the pistol's trigger a fraction of an inch. "I'll make sure you never see another job in civilized space again," she hissed, backing away towards the edge of the crates. "You won't be able to get a job bouncing drunks on Omega when I'm through with you." The krogan laughed and threw the turian down.

"Fire up the shuttle, little maiden," he sneered, "and we'll see what you can do when we're all off this forsaken rock."

Chara turned and scurried towards the shuttle nervously, hissing and muttering curses. Watching her go, the krogan reached down, easily snapped the chain binding human to turian and shoved the briefcase in her shivering hands. "At this point I think I can trust you better than either of these clowns," he rumbled, hauling her onto her feet. "Besides, if you try something I know I can crush your whole chest with one blow." He let the turian get up on his own, noting with satisfaction the whipped look in his avian eyes.

"The captain isn't fooling around, you know. She has powerful connections." Korac brushed himself off and straightened up the collar of his under-armor, hurt pride evident in his voice.

"I've used people like her to bludgeon people more connected than her to death. Big deal."

The turian stepped forward, reaching up to point at Wrex with one talon. "Yeah, well you better start practicing, because-"

Wrex saw the air behind him shimmer a second before the turian was cut off mid-sentence by a pair of metal blades erupting from his chest. Blue blood jetted onto the surprised krogan's face as his hearing was blotted out by the human female's senseless screeching. The blades retracted and dumped the turian onto the ground, revealing a huge figure nearly a foot taller than Wrex, nothing more than a ghost made of heat-warped air. His fingers convulsed automatically, sending slug after slug through the Carnifex' barrel and into the thing. It roared, the same earth-shattering sound from the control room, and the next thing Wrex knew, he was twenty feet away on his back, the remains of shattered crates and canisters all around him. Searing pain from a deep gash coursed from his crest to his neck.

Sparks writhed their way up the ghostly killer's legs as it stepped over the ruined crate stack into a puddle of liquid. It paused, seemingly considering the situation, then with one arm motion the cloaking field withdrew. Muscular, scaly skin and battered armor plates slowly vibrated into view. Wrex staggered to his feet, nearly face-to-face with an eyeless metal mask. He'd never seen anything like it in all his travels.

It was going to look damn good on his wall.

He drew his shotgun, managing to fire off two shots single-handed before the brute's strapped-on claws cut it in two. He drew his own knife lightning-quick to block the claw's downward slash. The beast flipped its wrist, snapping the tungsten steel like plastene. It returned the gesture, ramming a dagger into Wrex's thigh. With his blood rage in full swing, he didn't even feel it. A telescopic three-pronged spear appeared in its right hand. The tip shot out, grazing Wrex's jaw as he twisted away from it and grabbed on. He swung it into the path of the incoming claws and they cut the metal shaft in two. Wrex gripped the severed tip in one hand and wrenched the dagger from his thigh with the other, hunkering down into a combat stance. His opponent tilted his masked head as though approving the krogan's prowess, then reached for a device on its waist. A circular saw-like blade appeared in his hand. With a clenching motion of the fist, it began to spin.

Wrex didn't give the thing any time to use it. He threw himself forward, knocking the claws back with the spear tip and jamming the dagger into the spinning blade. His head met the things chest with enough force to make his entire spine crack and compress. Wrex kept charging, trying to pin it against a wall and hopefully crush its ribs, but it grabbed his shoulders and spun him aside onto the floor. Just as he rolled onto his side, its bare foot jammed against his windpipe. He looked up into the featureless grey face wreahed with strange beaded tendrils, hearing heavy breathing behind it. It raised the arm-claws above its head one final time-

A concussion grenade slammed into the mask and the creature lurched backwards. Multiple rifle shots peppered its mask and torso as Chara danced down the shuttle's gangplank, screaming and firing wildly at it. The fiend looked up, directly at her as some sort of intricate tube unfolded from its huge shoulderpad and began to hum and pulse.

Wrex threw himself out of the way as a plasma discharge roared out of the tube and ripped into the shuttle's cockpit, sending a shower of glass and steel and sparks through the hangar. Fuel tanks caught and went up, turning the spaceship into a brilliant yellow fireball that tossed both krogan and asari towards their attacker. Wrex felt a small twinge of satisfaction as his body struck it in the head and sailed into the doorway. He was on his feet in a second, feeling nothing. Once a krogan's body had absorbed enough fight-response neurotransmitters, only death would stop them. Tomorrow he would not make it out of bed, but today, all the broken ribs in the world couldn't stop him. The thing was standing up now, woozy. He was going to feed those big yellow-green arms to it. It was as good as dead.

He was vaguely aware of the asari and human weakly tugging at his body, but it wasn't until the words 'gonna explode' filtered into his conscious mind that he noticed the streams of burning fuel spreading in every direction. Spreading, no doubt, to where the rest of the fuel was kept. He bellowed with rage and backpedaled through the door just as the human punched the lock again. The thing was fast but not fast enough, reaching the steel slabs just as they slammed closed. Next time they met, he'd win. Nothing would take away this righteous kill from him.

Even when the hangar finally immolated itself, moments later as they fled down a hallway, Wrex knew that there would be a next time. 

* * *

><p>Howling, the hunter slammed into the steel door twice more, budging it no further. Again, his prey had escaped in these infernal tunnels! But, he had finally met the <em>oord-naht<em>in combat. What a magnificent specimen! Nothing had ever taken two of his weapons, nor thrown him to the ground. Nothing had stood up to that level of punishment and lived, much less remained fighting. Their ship destroyed, these weak beings lost the only avenue of escape. He would find them again, and when he did-

An alert flashed across his visor screen. He turned to see the conflagration of the destroyed spaceship spreading towards a grated channel in the floor. Sensors neatly outlined the channel in X-ray mode, tracing it back to several huge tanks of pressurized, flammable liquid lining the wall. Enough liquid to burn up every molecule of air in the room. There was nowhere to hide. He must escape, or perish.

Scanning the room, his visor computer now picked out a balcony, protected only by thick, clear polymer. Whining emanated from his plasma caster as it powered up again.

The hunter flexed his legs and leaped, following his own plasma blast, just as the entire chamber exploded.


End file.
